PS 1679 
.F33 P5 
1916 







PERSEPHONE 

ISAAC :FLAGG 




PERSEPHONE 

A Masque 



BY I 



SAAC Jt^LAGG 



PAUL ELDER AND COMPANY 

San Fbancisco 






..<('^,.'b .h 



COPTBIGHT 
1916 

By Isaac Flagg 



/ 






3gI.A4;37571 




PERSEPHONE 

A 

Masque 



PBIMTED AND BOUND BT 
TBE BOTCBOFTEB8 
EAST ACBOBA, NEW TOBK 



■ SCHEME ■ 

PROLOGUE 

Hermes 

I 

By the Borders of Ocean 

OcEANiDES Persephone Demeter 

II 

By the Grove of the Hamadryads and the Mansion 

made Desolate 
Demeter Selene Hamadryads 

III 

At the Home of Eumolpus in Eleusis 

Eumolpus Councillors An Aged Minstrel 

Callithoe Demo Demeter 

Metaneira Iambe Servants 

IV 

By the Entrance to the Lower World 

Hermes Pluto Persephone 

V 

By the House of Eumolpus 

Children Iambe Metaneira Callithoe 

Demo Eumolpus Councillors 

Demeter Iris 

EPILOGUE 

In the Temple at Eleusis 

[51 



PERSEPHONE 



■ PROLOGUES 

By the Borders of Ocean 

Hermes 

Between the bounds 
Of Hght and darkness my commission is 
To mediate, when from the vaulted heaven 
Some swift decisive errand by my hand 
The Father warrants for these nether worlds, 
Be his solicitude for brief transient lives 
Or the soul's final destiny in store. 
He wills, he nods. Then, as a falling star 
That scars the welkin with a chain of fire 
And mortals say. Behold ! there speaks a sign, 
So to terrestrial regions I dart down, 
As now. Or, sometime, to that lower realm, 
A ghostly monarch's yet unfear'd domain. 
It is a token touching both him and those 
Who own his sway not yet, that I this hour 
Bring from imperial heaven. — Nor need they see 
Nor listen, when thus some mandate I proclaim 
To the frail mortal dwellers of this sphere. 
Let but the fixt omnipotent will ordain. 
Then shall it surely find each human soul. 

[7] 



PERSEPHONE 



Unheard, yet shall it thrill them ; and their hearts 
Shall learn, not comprehending. 'T is as if. 
Planting intelligence with painless sting, 
The winged lightning spread the tidings wide 
In infinite direction. 

O, thrice blest ! 
If men but knew the bhss that wraps them now ; 
Moved they not all-unconscious through the years, 
As children hold no measure to compare 
And estimate their gladness. Even no name 
Find these for their own era of the world, 
Which with admiring envious regret 
Less happy cycles will look back upon 
And voice their praises of the Age of Gold. 
When every hour is golden, by what touch 
Of disillusion ; by what cunning mark 
Shall its transcendent quality be made known 
To the untroubled spirit? — A long dream 
More soft than slumber, brighter than the dawn 
That wakes on fresh dews of the starry night. 
In the unsuUied day's fulfilment merged. 
Not yet those designations fit the tongue 
Which through succeeding ages shall be rife. 
Envy, injustice, wrath and war. Not yet 

[8] 



PROLOGUE 



Are laws and punishments. No boundary stone 

Severs the fields. No bark defies the deep. 

They buy and sell not, seek no foreign shore. 

Not yet the ploughman's labor : earth unvext, 

Untill'd, unaided yields its increase. Full 

Flow its pellucid fountains ; while the vine 

Trailing luxuriant, purple-laden, lends 

A nectar 'd moiety. — Existence thus 

Begun, the end is easy. Life's supreme 

Crown of beatitude, euthanasy. 

Awaits their welcome : burthenless old age, 

Mellow'd and unrepining, fades in sleep. 

Nor deem the rest, that these though lost are gone. 

Not lost, though absent ; present, though unseen : 

Benign superior spirits hovering still 

In the same spotless world. 

Alas ! 
Of aeons, as of lives, there comes an end. 
Time and the message I voice now, confirm 
The fateful word, this Golden Age must pass ; 
By its successor dispossess'd, as when 
The sombre leaflet triumphs o'er the green. 
This day their sun to his last setting sinks, 
To greet no other unregretful morn, 

[9] 



PERSEPHONE 



No other scatheless passage through the hours. 
No more from toil and megrim free, content 
To bide the morrow, of its blessing sure, 
Shall each receive unsought his portion due 
Of nature's bounty ; nor unenvied hold 
That which his labor wins. Sorrow and joy 
In jalousied admixture fain to quaff 
From the same cup, such potion they will deem 
Tolerable, be not the bitter share 
Pour'd in excess. Strange phantoms of disease, 
Ill-boding choir, will chant a shrill refrain, 
With ceaseless menace, at the doors of all 
Doom'd to be born hereafter. Now no more 
Shall painless dissolution smooth the seam 
Marking pale memory's hardly sunder'd tie ; 
But in their prime, or youth, or infancy 
One from another rudely snatch'd, full oft. 
As the frail sapling by fierce whirlwind snapt. 
Shall loved ones out of loving arms be torn ; 
While vainly into the darksome gulf, that yawns 
Beyond the funeral-pile, each frantic cry 
Of prayerful lamentation shall be flung, — 
To him, the pitiless, the inexorable. 
Saddest of litanies — nor like to those 
Which, not unanswer'd, unto us betimes 

[10] 



■ PROLOGUE ■ 

With mourning shall ascend. 

It was a need 
Of mediation 'twixt the visible world 
And shadow'd mystery — a concession due 
To powers that shall unheeded dwell no more, 
Moved the supernal ruler to decree 
The passing of an unconscious happy age 
Into the troublous phase of care and strife, 
Wonder and doubt and strange bewilderment, 
With glimmering hopes suffused ; to guide the soul 
By thoughtful stages of inquietude 
Along the mortal journey to its bourn. 
Wayfaring nobler than, rapt, with no gauge, 
No touchstone of comparison, so to live 
As if they lived not. Now shall men be led 
To seek and never find ; to crave, to yearn 
Without possessing ; to question, but not know. 
Nor can attainment or dull respite follow, 
To pall the spirit with complacent pride. 

Here, where the sleepless stream* 
Of coiling Ocean, in broad cincture clasp'd 
About the medial earth, murmurs response 
To light airs by its margent stealing ; mirrors 

[11] 



PERSEPHONE 



Each fleecy cloud ; and laps this shelving strand 
Starr'd with gay blossoms of eternal spring ; — 
Here, nigh to yonder cliff, whereby even now 
Perchance grim terror lurks : — hither will point 
Back solemnly through immemorial years 
Tradition's finger, while ten-thousand tones 
Of rapt, inspired minstrelsy resound 
In every clime, this scene to celebrate. 
Spread for the mystic union of two worlds — 
Scene of Life beauteous, blithesome, innocent, 
Wedded to Death ! 

Nathless, not all in vain. 
Mother divine, shall the sad torches burn 
To light the agonized, far-roaming quest 
Of thy bereavement ; nor quite fruitless fall 
The scourge of thy displeasure on the fields ; 
When, by that barren spectacle of woe 
And image of thyself disconsolate 
To pious intervention moved, the Father 
(My faithful heralding invoked again) 
Wrests from reluctant Erebus the bride 
Seized as for sole possession : now as twain. 
Alternate solace of the one-half year. 
In equal sharing to thy bosom press'd. 

[12] 



PROLOGUE 



O fortunate, benignant resting-place 

And harbor to that wandering search forlorn ; 

Chosen recipient of profoundest lore. 

Won from renascent nature's grateful hand, 

Happy Eleusis ! — whose fane, consecrate 

To the half-rescued and the half -consoled, 

Mother and Daughter, shall conserve and guard, 

Closing religious lips with seal of gold, 

Their secret, who from mystic visions reap 

Hopes that are sweeter ; from the awakening, 

through 
The great transition, to the end unseen. 

The hour draws nigh. The conscious soil awaits 

Pressure of lightsome footsteps ; and each flower, 

With melancholy chalice, droops and leans ; 

As by divine anticipation prone 

To yield its being up beneath the touch 

Of fair immortal fingers. — Hark ! what strain 

Of virginal voices this way floating breathes 

Faint symptom of approach? Ye nymphs of Ocean, 

Parent sublime, how fittingly your choir 

Surrounds the sweet Earth-daughter ; whilst not far, 

LuU'd to forgetful, unsuspecting sleep, 

The Mother rests ; nor should in dreams surmise 

113] 



PERSEPHONE ■ 

Peril mid those of her own impulse born, 

Iris and crocus, violet, hyacinth ; 

And ah ! fair tempter, charged with deathly spell, 

Narcoma — thou the lure, narkissos. O ! 

Too lovely emblem, fated to recall 

The passing of this hour. 

Now it behooves 
To spurn the disc of dull, inferior earth. 
Which the wing'd sandal hath not scorn'd to tread 
Thus long, and seek ethereal spheres, unchoked 
By the thick air of time and circumstance. 
Ascend ! ascend ! [Exit] 



[14] 



PERSEPHONE 



By the Borders of Ocean ; as in Prologue 
OcEANiDES Persephone Demeter 

The lay of the Ocean Nymphs is sung behind the 
scenes by their Leader, with refrain by all in unison. 

(Song) 
When oft these thoughts it may beseem 

To crave the sanction of our sire, 
Emerging from his quenchless stream 
Gladly I lead my tuneful choir 
J With earthly spirits join'd in glee, 
I Demeter and Persephone. 

Their smiling meadows comelier lie, ^ 

Whose edge our father's eddies lave, 

Than pearls with crimson coral vie 
Beneath his green translucent wave : 

When the twain wander here with me, 

Demeter and Persephone. 

Gay chaplets to their brows we bind 

Of flowers with sweetest fragrance fraught. 

For ring-round dances deftly twined 
To us by circling waters taught ; 

[15] 



PERSEPHONE 

( Nor they less frolicsome than we, 
1 Demeter and Persephone. 

The while in turn for us they make 
Light airs through piny verdure play, 

Aeolian melodies awake 

In answer to my roundelay ; 

As ours their bounding pulses free, 

Demeter and Persephone. 

Soon as yon cloud's soft splendor yields 

To deepening shades of dusky eve, 
What powers caress the willing fields? 
Persuade each seedlet to conceive? 
f Lead forth the scion from the tree!' — 
1 Demeter and Persephone. 

By heaven to earth's embraces sent 

Since order'd purposes begun, 
The Daughter with the Mother blent — 
These move and breathe as two in one ; 
f Nor can such bond dissever'd be, 
1 Demeter and Persephone. 



[161 



PERSEPHONE 

[Enter Persephone with Ocean Nymphs. She is at 
first attended closely by their Leader, while the others 
remain apart, gathering flowers.] 

Persephone 
O ! how the scented air doth tempt to probe 
Its secret in some petal'd casket hidden. 

Leader 
Thy mother said, stray not far, whilst herself 
By slumbrous mood o'ermaster'd turn'd to rest. 

Persephone 
Near ! near ! not far, coils of fine incense rise 
As from some drowsy region trod in dreams — 

Leader 
Ay, many a blossom prompteth us, that ever 
Thou wert a dreamy child, Persephone. 

Persephone 
Some drowsy region where we rove not yet : 
Where sleep might be our waking ; waking, sleep. 

[17] 



PERSEPHONE 



Leader 
As now thy mother slumbers watchful, and thou 
Dost grope unwatchful mid the scenes of hght. 

Persephone 
Weird dimness closes round the light, and there 
One golden starry visage burns alone. 

Leader 
The flower hath charm 'd thee ; and methinks in 

truth 
Of thee 't is worthy, for thy hands only sprung. 

{The Leader withdraws to her companions.] 

Persephone 

[Bending over the narcissus] 

What spell, 
Sweet flower ! what potent counsel strange 
Thy winsome grace divine 
With soul-beguiling fragrance could combine, 
So toward unearthly visions of new change 
My helpless fancy to compel ! 

[18] 



PERSEPHONE 



Once more ! once more 
Ensnared in dark bewildering somnolence 
Reflective reason halts ! Once more 
With centred sight intense 
My ravish'd spirit seems 
Through the reopen'd eye of dreams 
This sovereign heavenly blossom to behold 
New-throned mid sombre, grave magnificence ! 

Lo! 
Free of its sever'd stem 
Shines the corolla as a diadem 

Clasping a queenly brow : 

Once fair as day, but now 
Pale with a sad mysterious light ; 
Dark-eyed and beautiful as night. 
Half of immortal, half of earthly mould. — 

O, rouse me ! let me wake ! 

Myself that crown to take, — 
Myself shall wear it — 

[As she stoops with both hands outstretched to pluck 
the flower, the gigantic figure of Pluto, whose black 
steeds come partially into view beyond the cliff, 
advances swiftly and silently behind her, seizes her by 
the waist and bears her away.] 

[19] 



PERSEPHONE 

Persephone 
O, whither ! — release me ! 

O, save me ! 
My mother, save me ! O, where? where art thou? 
[Enter Demeter from the side near the group of 
nymphs.] 

Demeter 
[To the Nymphs, who are in commotion] 
That voice ! that cry ! — 

[Looking about her] Persephone ! my child ! — 
Not with you? 

Leader 
O, mother, mother Demeter ! 

Demeter 
What? where? 

Leader 
Thither ! thither, the cliff ! 
Borne by an awful shape ! 

Demeter 
O heaven ! 
Shape human? 

Leader 
Human? what is that? 
Art thou, Demeter, human? 

[20] 



PERSEPHONE 



Demeter 
Too nearly, though immortal ! — 
Thou also, O my child !— But lost? lost? 
Nay ! nay, the immortal part 
Loss cannot know ; 

And that which links her to this sphere, 
A mother's quest shall find it, far or near ! — 
Ye powers above which have this fate decreed, 
Wait ! wait, and ye shall bend 
Before Demeter ! 
And thou black earth, 
If thy broad bosom hath 
Ken of Persephone, 
Let me forever scour it to the end ! 
By night the torch, by day the tireless eye — 
And pour my sorrow and my wrath. 
Fell mixture, far and wide ! 
They, too, by losing shall my anguish try. 
This bleeding heart 

Throbs not without requital of its pain ! 
Forth ! forth ! 
To seek, to wail, to languish, to regain ! 

[Exit] 



[21] 



PERSEPHONE 



Ocean Nymphs 

(Song) 

Now no longer may we stand 
On the unfamiliar land : 
Father Ocean calls us home 
To the grottoes and the foam. 
There upon our days no strange 

Shock of parting and profound 
Sense of melancholy change 

Comes to mar their blissful round. 



His slow-circling waters deep 

Round the earth untroubled sweep. 

Its impatient runlets flee 

To his endless harmony. 

There no discord breaks our dreams, 

Robs the heart of fancies fair ; 
One day like another seems, 

Our delights are always there. 



[22 



PERSEPHONE 



With his partner in the skies 
Ocean's pulses fall and rise, 
To her true responses near 
From the crescent to the sphere. 
No vague signs our pathway cross. 

Searching grove and wilderness ; 
No regrets of love and loss 

On our virgin bosoms press. 



When these nightly thoughts incline 
Toward our stars, some strain divine 
Wafted from that heavenly choir 
Compasseth our heart's desire. 
Time nor task our father knows. 

For no peaceful end he yearns : 
From itself his current flows 

And unto itself returns. 

[Exeunt] 



[23] 



PERSEPHONE 



II 



By the Grove of the Hamadryads and the Mansion 
made Desolate. 

Demeter Selene Hamadryads 

{Dirge) 
[Heard at eventide in the autumn season, of voices 
within the mansion with open windows] 

First Voice 

\o} aged man) 
It was not time ; 
Not yet 't was time. 

Second Voice 

{of aged woman) 
So in his early prime — 
O ! in his prime. 

First Voice 
Ere now it came not so. 
Ourselves were ripe to go ; 
Ourselves to fade, to sleep. 

[24] 



PERSEPHONE 



Second Voice 

This thing we do not know. 
O ! why for sudden blow, 
Why must we weep? 



Chorus 

{of mingled voices) 

Themselves were ripe to go. 
They do not know, 
For sudden cruel blow 

Why they must weep. 
Ere now it came not so. 
Themselves were ripe to go ; 

To fade, to sleep. 

First Voice 

Not yet, not yet had he 
Lived, of himself to see 
New lives arise and bloom, 
But by an early doom 
His own laid low. 

[25] 



PERSEPHONE 



Second Voice 
The axe laid to the tree ! — 
O ! for what cause are we 
Lingering in vacant gloom? 
And he swept to the tomb 
From youthful glow ! 

Chorus 
They lingering in the gloom. 
And he swept to the tomb 

From youthful glow. 
The axe laid to the tree. 
He had not lived to see 
New lives arise and bloom, 
But by an early doom 
His own laid low. 

[The funeral procession following the bier moves from 
the mansion. As it passes from the scene Demeter, in 
mourning garb and bearing a smoking torch, enters on 
the other side by the grove.] 

Demeter 
Ay ! these perceive, the autumn of the world 
Portendeth more than harvest and fair fruits. 

[26] 



PERSEPHONE 



Not every shorn leaf that comes whirKng down 
Hath of a timely spring remembrance, but 
Full many a bourgeon did arrive too late. 
O, have ye dream'd, ye mortal sojourners, 
That this long human childhood should endure? 
And, while ourselves of deathless stamp must groan 
And grope with the half -kindled torch, that ye 
Might through a life of imperception reap 
The fruitage of experience sans the pain ! — 
Nor, if the awakening bend your necks to earth. 
Blame ye Demeter, who herself by fate 
Struggles enmesh'd and sees not to the end. — 
O ! wherefore should my share in this fell maze 
Of mingled day and darkness be that framed 
For agonies of severance and despair.^ 
Empty as yonder desolate mansion feels 
The heart that did with double fulness beat. 
Where art thou, O my daughter? thou the fairest. 
The freshest portion of my being, torn 
Rudely away, leaving this mournful remnant 
That rather should in nothingness dissolve 
Than thus cry blindly for its dearer part ! — 
Come forth ! come forth, some spirit, some deity 
That hast a far-discerning sense denied 
To this bewilder'd weary questioner : 

[27] 



PERSEPHONE 



Or from the skies or from the rotting mould 
Heap'd by the boles of these denuded trees 
Come forth ! Tell me ; O, tell me, 
Where is my daughter? where? 
Where is Persephone? 

[Demeter sinks to her knee as the full moon just ris- 
ing suddenly emerges from a bank of clouds and floods 
the empty mansion with light. At the head of the stair- 
way leading to its main entrance the Moon Goddess 
appearSy wearing a saffron robe and a crown of silver.] 

Selene 
Demeter, parent of seasons, giver to earth 
Of its green cheer and freshness, why thyself 
Dost make such moan in dismal garb forlorn? 

Demeter 
O, would, Selene, above this soil thy lot 
Of virginal remoteness had been mine ! 

Selene 
Slight not thy nearer destiny, Demeter ; 
Nor deem my cold tranquility worth more 
Than thy true motherhood with all its pains. 

[28] 



■ PERSEPHONE 

Demeter 
So easy is it for them that have not felt, 
The worth of others' feehng to apprize. 

Selene 
Yet 't was thine own plaint, that not yet thou seest 
The end whither thou tendest. — But my eye 
Leaves of the earthly tract no coigne unview'd. 

Demeter 
O ! bring'st thou, then, from that all-seeing round 
Some tiding, O Selene, of my child? 

Selene 
Not by this vesper radiance alone 
Scan I the nether orb, but in full day 
With silvery shy effulgence 't is survey 'd — 

Demeter 
And nowhere to that circling argent, nor 
To the pale saffron halo beam'd a sign? 

Selene 
With many a sidewise glance, or face to face. 
By plain or mountain, or by the salty edge 
Of Ocean heaving to my bosom's spell. 

[29] 



■ PERSEPHONE ■ 

Demeter 
There, there fell on my anguish' d waking ear 
The vanishing cry of lost Persephone. 

Selene 
Not at that hour my slender crescent hung 
Nigh to those flowery borders. I saw not 
Thy daughter's ravisher nor herself bewray'd. 

Demeter 
O ! even, then, to the whole monthly vigil's end 
From thee, Selene, could that face be hidden .^^ 

Selene 
Of the overworld no denizen is she ; 
Earth's sunny surface, whence her joyous hand 
The rose and lily pluck'd, knows her no more. 

Demeter 
O ! whither tend thy ominous words, Selene? 

Selene 
In the underworld thy daughter now, Demeter, 

Demeter 
Say it not ! heaven's offspring cannot brook the tale. 

[30] 



■ PERSEPHONE 13 

Selene 
Sits, the pale consort of its lord. — Such doom 
In her swift trackless passing read I clear 
And in the Father's prescient, grave designs ; 
Wherein thyself, Demeter, mightst not share, 
Since in thyself those purposes should find 
A suffering instrument. 

Demeter 

O, truly chosen ! 

Selene 
Some bond there needed, to link inseparably 
The unthinking human world with the profound 
Mysterious sphere to Pluto's charge assign'd. 
Though deathless be thy daughter, yet she dieth ; 
Ravish'd from life she liveth still. 

Demeter 

O fate ! 
And pitiless schemes inscrutable, to pierce 
And rend in twain this quivering mother heart. 
For that likewise each human parent might learn 
Some secret of new pangs. — ^But for them, too, 
As for myself, will I reclaim to earth — 

[31] 



PERSEPHONE 



To earth, my province and my tender charge, 
Through its own devastation, its own pain 
This intimate inseparably link'd bond, 
Our child, my child Persephone ! 

{Kneeling again and smiting the ground repeatedly 
and powerfully with her smouldering torch] 

Hear thou ! hear thou ! 
Aidoneus ! Aidoneus ! 
Hear ! in thy dark demesnes. 
Whose shore, being deathless I may not invade 
Save with this stern, sure menace ; hear ! 
Yield up ! yield up thy prey ! 

Aidoneus ! Aidoneus ! 
Hear thou ! hear thou ! 
Yield up ! yield up ! 
Thou, thou shalt heed Demeter. 
[Rising, she extends the torch upward.] 

Hear now, ye powers supernal ; between whom 
And the infernal lies this sodden earth, 
Whereof by fell concession ye pretend 
The weal to foster : hear ! hear ye Demeter ! 
Now on the same earth, your fond care, shall fall 
Foul blight and famine, drouth, and vegetal death. 
The tree shall wither and the brook run dry. 

[32] 



PERSEPHONE 

All things shall droop and sink ; not one shall spring. 

Through a v/eary, long, intolerable year 

Man, beast, and plant shall hunger, thirst, and faint, 

Till for deliverance yourselves cry out 

In fervent supplication ; nor shall that 

Avail, save in the promised end. — 'T is said. 



Selene 
Not by dark wood, nor cave, nor desert sands 
In all my veering pathway o'er the lands 
Wrath fiercer have I seen nor grief more wild 
Than the robb'd parent mourning for its child. 



Demeter 
Love left unto its own 

Of anger hath no need ; 
What vengeance can atone 

When these fond fibres bleed ! 



Selene 
Though on the innocent such ire descend? — 
Could gentle dryads thy proud soul offend.'^ 

I [33] 



PERSEPHONE 



Demeter 
The dryad and the gnome 

Must answer for their birth 
On earth they found a home, 

Their portion is of earth. 



Selene 
For its appointed hour each portion waits ; 
Thou add'st untimely passing to their fates. 

[The Hamadryads have gradually become dimly 
visible among the trees.] 



A Dryad 
{sings) 
If so my tree must perish 

My own hfe-course is run ; 
Hers is the soul I cherish, 

My tree and I are one. 
Living I would not leave her. 
Nor dying can bereave her ; 
No sigh I breathe shall grieve her ; 

Our task of love is done. 

[34] 



■ PERSEPHONE 

Demeter 
Ye win a happier lot, 

When both to rest are gone, 
Than they who perish not. 

But, parted, must Hve on. 

Selene 
Not two in one, but one aloof, alone — 
It only can eternal calmness own. 

Another Dryad 
We two were born together, 

This tender tree and I. 
In rain and sunny weather 

We grew beneath the sky. 
We bathed us in the showers, 
We laugh 'd among the flowers 
Together through the hours ; 

Together we will die. 

Demeter 
Together wakes a tone 

Of rapture in the heart. 
Ye lived — and have not known 

That other word, apart. 

[35] 



PERSEPHONE 



Selene 
Twice blest the soul which through unending years 
Neither the one word nor the other hears. 

Another Dryad 
When autumn breezes sever 

These brown leaves from the stem 
It is a sorrow ever 

To say farewell to them. 
This time my tree is taking 
The sleep that hath no waking, 
And I my moan am making 

Her final requiem. 

Demeter 
And if ye rest in peace 

Your sorrows are forgot. 
They who must seek release 

In memory, find it not. 

Selene 
Till, haply, lifted from this troublous scene 
Their spirits hover in my heights serene. 

[The moon is again hidden by clouds and the scene 
left in darkness.] 

[361 



■ PERSEPHONE ■ 

III 

At the home of Eumolpus in Eleusis. The Council 
of Elders seated at the vestibule. 
Eumolpus Councillors An Aged Minstrel 
Callithoe Demo Demeter Metaneira 
Iambe Servants 

Eumolpus 
My lords, the time is ripe — as 't is not long 
Since stood likewise the increase of our fields 
In veritable ripeness — the hour 's at hand 
When for that easy-gather' d store we pay 
To the benignant, ever watchful Mother 
Due offering of thanks. Mark yonder pile, 
Thatch'd guaranty of barley thresh'd and housed ; 
Yon rows of oil- jars ; honey strain 'd, milk flowing 
Furnish the tithe acceptable, we the praise. 

First Councillor 
Praise verily and choicest fruits we owe 
For past care to Demeter. But not less 
The future craves of sparing kindly grace 
From the same hand divine. Signs are to note 
Of stress and dearth ; too long, too dry creeps on 
The rainless interval ; some springs run low. 

[37] 



PERSEPHONE 

Second Councillor 
Ay, for the winter plowing, sire, the wheat, 
An anxious thought I harbor. So the kine 
Seem restless and athirst. 

EUMOLPUS 

'T is well ; 't is well. 
The saving deities will not slight this land. 
To us their favor hath been ever near, 
At heart their worship. Mother and Daughter need 
No farther than Eleusis press, to find 
Of earthly homes the surest. — Go we now 
Each to his central hearth, the household shrine. 
There with full hand your solemn gifts renew. 
With vows of deprecation, if need be. 
Both shall avail, should no mischance belie 
My hopeful auguries. 

Third Councillor 

Fair omens wait 
Even now, Eumolpus, on thy word. Behold 
Our herald of cheer, the bard. [Enter Minstrel] 

Eumolpus 

Unwelcome never, 
Now in strict season, hail, sir minstrel ! hail ! 
Hail to thy harp. 

[38] 



PERSEPHONE 



Minstrel 
O gracious chief, each hour, 
Each season hath its tones, its harmony 
Of mingled promise and regret. 

EUMOLPUS 

Ay, true. 
We sit to celebrate it ; sound the strain. 

Minstrel 
[Sweeping the strings of his harp, sings.] 

If autumn have a sadder side 

I care not now to sing it ; 
My theme is happy harvest-tide. 

And grateful words I bring it. 

Behind is panting summer fled. 
Safe lies the slighted quarry. 

Fast by her flowery lair hath sped 
The seasons' eager foray ; 

While surly winter stands at bay. 
Biding the foremost comer — 

An hour that holds apart the day 
Of winter and of summer. 

[39] 



PERSEPHONE 



The huntsman's horn an echo leaves, 
In plaintive cadence falling. — 

The reaper pauses mid the sheaves, 
His ancient dream recalling. 

Faint whiffs afloat of woodland fire 
Vague memories awaken ; 

The spring-tide of his heart's desire. 
Old fancies long forsaken. 

Through hazy air he sees afar 
The serried summits quiver. — 

Then nearer signs the vision mar : 
Two graves beside the river ; 

The grain-field of its bounty shorn, 
The vine stript of its cluster ; 

No bird-note on the breezes borne, 
No flower to lend its lustre. — 

Second Councillor 

Truly, methinks our singer gravitates 
Toward the unwelcome side. 

[40] 



PERSEPHONE 

EUMOLPUS 

Too many years 
Teach him the reaper's lesson. — Nay, sing on ! 

Minstrel 
If autumn have a sadder side 

Why turn I now to sing it? 
My theme is happy harvest-tide, 

And cheerful words I bring it. 

What though the grape no longer glows. 

By leafy covert shielded? 
The wine-press with the nectar flows 

Its ripen'd splendor yielded. 

That rivalry of trampling feet 
Each youth and maid rejoices. 

In vintage toil their pastimes meet, 
I hear their frolic voices. 

For them bare field and fallen leaf 

No solitude betoken ; 
Theirs be the yet ungarner'd sheaf. 

Earnest of vows unspoken. 

[41] 



PERSEPHONE 

[Enter from without Callithoe and Demo : the 
former leading Demeter disguised as an aged needy 
woman ; the latter bearing an urn of water. The 
Minstrel sets aside his harp.] 

EUMOLPUS 

Not in song only, 

So it doth seem, shall youth confirm the steps 

Of melancholy age. — A visitor, 

CaUithoe? 

Callithoe 
A sad one, O my father ! 
A story of sorrows. 

EuMOLPUS 

It shall be heard within. 
Our festal rite preparing for the Mother 
Shall stand for consolation. — And thou, too. 
Good minstrel, enter with them for thy share. 
[The three women go into the house, followed by the 
Minstrel.] 

Again, my lords, the casual guest reminds us. 
For plenteous store what recompense we owe. 
Rise we now ; and to our several services 
Disperse and give observance. Fare you well ! 

[42] 



■ PERSEPHONE ■ 

[The Councillors rise and go out Eumolpus goes 
out on the other side. The scene changes to an interior, 
discovering the Court, an oblong area upon the ground, 
dimly lighted though partly open to the sky. This area 
is surrounded by a raised floor and roofed colonnade, 
with seats, and doors communicating with the several 
apartments of the dwelling; also a loom and spinning- 
wheels. In the centre of the court stands a large altar; 
and near it are set as offerings fruits, grain, jars of 
oil, wine, honey, flowers in pots. All the members of 
the household except Eumolpus himself: — the wife 
and the two daughters and numerous domestics, men 
and women, including Iambe, are seen standing on 
the ground about the altar. Their attitude is of tranquil 
expectation. Farther forward, upon the raised floor, 
on one side is seated the disguised Demeter, crouch- 
ing low with mournful mien ; on the other side stands 
the Minstrel with his harp. Every person, except 
Demeter, wears a wreath of laurel. A youthful 
attendant stands on either side of the altar, one hold- 
ing a lighted torch. — Enter at the rear Eumolpus, 
wearing a wreath. He speaks as he comes to a stand 
by the altar.] 



[43] 



PERSEPHONE 



EUMOLPUS 

Now let every tongue be still, 
And your conscious silence fill 
With a reverence profound 
All the air these walls surround. 
[At a sign from the master one of the attendants pours 
oil upon the altar, while the other sets it aflame.] 
The Father first we glorify. 
Cloud- wrapt, dwelling in the sky. — 
But thou need'st no loud acclaim. 
Nor to speak thy mighty name. 
Crave thy presence in our prayer. 
For thy will is everywhere. 

Demeter, Cora, Bacchus : triple company, 
One spirit breathed in three : 
If, where Salamis' dark brow 
On our curving bay is bent. 
To Eleusis with benign intent 
Ye ever came, come now ! 

Many Voices in Unison 
Demeter, Cora, Bacchus : triple company, 
One spirit breathed in three : 
If by Salamis' dark brow 
Ye ever to Eleusis came, come now ! 

[44] 



PERSEPHONE 



EUMOLPUS 

Demeter, Cora, Bacchus : triple company, 
One spirit breathed in three : 
Of your gifts we keep not all ; 
To yourselves the choicest fall. 
Those no blemish came to mar 
Emblems of perfection are — 
Of your gracious bounty, sent 
For our zest and aliment. 

Milk of heifer ranging free. 

On whose neck no yoke may rest ; 

Of the petal-probing bee 

Honey from wild blossoms press'd ; 

Crystal streams from virgin spring : 

All with thankful hearts we bring. 

Drawn from parent stock sincere 
Thy untemper'd cordial flows, 
Bacchus ; and the fruit is here, 

Dearest that Eleusis knows, — 
Where by zones of yellow grain 
The gray olive dots the plain. 
[At the intervals of the recital the several offerings have 
been placed upon the altar.] 

[45] 



PERSEPHONE 



Mother benign. 

Thy bosom holds 
Secrets divine 

That earth unfolds — 

What powers assure 

Life yet to be, 
To us obscure, 

Possess'd by thee. 

We score the soil, 
We fling the seed ; 

All-vain our toil, 

Shouldst thou not heed. 

Not by some chance 
Each germ upsprings ; 

Our sustenance 

Thy bounty brings. — 

By turf or tree. 

By tame or wild, 
We praise with thee 

Cora thy child. 

[46] 



PERSEPHONE 



One soul, one will, 

Ye are not twain ; 
Attuned to thrill 

The same refrain. 

That unison 

Our blessing prove. 
O ! breathe it on 

The fields we love. 

What hazards hurt. 

What mischiefs mar, 
Avert ! avert ! 

Hold them afar. 

No want know'st thou, | 

Parent divine ; ' 

Yet to our vow 
Thine heart incline 

In gracious mood — 

Gifts as of yore. 
Full oft renew'd, 

And more and more. \ 

[The altar-flame is again kindled.] \ 



I 



■ PERSEPHONE 

The same who doth beginnings lend 
Claims our homage of the end. 
When on hallow 'd names we call 
'T is the Father crowns them all ; 
All the gleanings of our days 
In the fateful balance weighs. 
Therefore now in final turn 
His flames on the altar burn. 
Your unprison'd voices break 
Stillness held for harvest's sake. 
Taste its rich inviting store 
And the temper'd nectar pour ; 
Be your mutual greetings blent 
In recover'd merriment. 

[There is lively movement and the hum of mingled 
voices. They sit and partake of the fruit and bread 
distributed. Wine is mixed with water in the wassail 
bowl and served in cups. Demeter, though still in 
dejected attitude, partakes sparingly of bread, but 
declines the wine offered her.] 

Metaneira 
Poor woman, have cheer ; be not afraid ; put by 
The mournful thoughts that cloud your aged brow. 
Mortals must bear it when sad fates arrive, 

[48] 



PERSEPHONE 



Yet seek assuagement. 'T is Eumolpus' house, 
Who with just hand and charitable heart. 
And by wise compeers seconded, protects 
The people of Eleusis. No poor wanderer 
(For all come in the Father's name) goes hence 
Unsoothed, uncomforted. Tell us your name ; 
Whence you have wander'd hither. 

Callithoe 

Mother, she said 
Her name is Doso and she comes from Crete. 

Metaneira 
So far? O strange ! 

Eumolpus 
Good woman, we fain would hear 
From your own lips the story of these woes. 
Speak and reward us. 

Demeter 

Noble chief, 't were long 
From the beginning to the end to trace 
My path of sorrows. But the immediate tale 
Is of the angry sea, whose hostile edge 
And cliffs of flint shatter'd the vessel's side 

[49] 



PERSEPHONE ■ 

Wherein from that far Cretan isle we sail'd. 

A whole household were we. For, though myself 

Bound but to menial service, it had been long 

And intimate — and not one other now 

Lives of that happy group. O ! would the fierce 

Unconquerable tempest that impell'd 

Our bark upon those adamantine shores 

Had made me its first victim, — this aged heart 

Still beating to deplore the loss of them 

Who least deserved their fate. And most I mourn 

The gentle child which 't was my task to tend 

From morn till eve, and through the stilly night 

Unto its helpless needs to minister. — 

Alas ! not always did such order hold. 

That youth and childhood should first sink and fade. 

But now the fishers whose brave efforts sought 

To cheat the billows, rescuing me alone. 

Brought me to Thoricus ; and thence I wander'd, 

Till by the fountain whence your daughters drew 

Pure water for Demeter's festival 

Weary I sat, despairing. 

Metaneira 

O, weep not. 
Poor soul ! nor think the source of hope runs dry. 

[50] 



PERSEPHONE 



For 't is the parent of hopes, whose rite some breeze 
Of shifting fortune sent you here to share. 
'T is she who, when chill frost bites and lays low 
Soft, swaying foliage wither'd to the root, 
Inspires our trust in its rebirth. And now 
Deem the sweet child that perish'd found again. 
An infant son have I, late-born, well loved, 
Blooming with promise. You shall be his nurse. 
Tend him even as that one. And mayhap 
When he attains to conscious age, his thoughts 
Will seek you gratefully and make your lot 
Envied of many. — Is he not yet awake, 
lambe.^^ 

Iambe 
Nay, he sleeps, my mistress, still. 

Metaneira 
Later he shall be brought. — 

EUMOLPUS 

But there needs cheer 
To break this sadness, Metaneira. Methinks 
Our minstrel guest hath not yet brought his song 
To strict conclusion. — Let us know the end. 

[51] 



PERSEPHONE 



Minstrel 
[After a brief prelude upon the harp, resumes his song.] 
If autumn have a sadder side 
I choose not now to sing it ; 
My theme is happy harvest-tide, 
And grateful words I bring it. 

Your praises of the Mother sound 
While halcyon days still linger ; 

Ere yet the wintry wind, unbound, 
Has touch'd with shriveUng finger 

The last grace of the tender year. 
Its dulcet breathings banish'd ; 

Ere the last fitful gleam of cheer 
From smiling skies has vanish'd. 

The mother quail still stays to call 

Her sturdy brood together ; 
The lizard still basks on the wall ; 

The crane still preens his feather. 

Till soon he span the southern sea, 

To Libyan shores descending ; 
Some lone cicada pipes his glee ; 

Some swallow southward wending. 

[52 



PERSEPHONE 

O, wait ! and turn not to deplore 
The charm of days now ended ; 

The nightingale's sad lay, no more 
With vesper stillness blended. 

Mourn not ! What though the self -same bird 

Return to thrill us never? 
That heavenly plaint shall yet be heard, 

That tale retold forever. 

Not the same flowers unfold again. 
Once more the meadows glisten ; 

Not the same zephyrs whisper, when 
Once more, entranced, ye listen. 

Your minstrel shall not tarry long. 

Soon with the sere leaf lying. 
New voices will repeat his song. 

From age to age undying. 

[There is silence and a long pause, till Eumolpus, 
filling a cup from the bowl and presenting it to the 
Minstrel, speaks.] 

[53] 



PERSEPHONE 



EUMOLPUS 

Thy song shall live indeed, 

AU-honor'd bard, when we have pass'd, who now 

By the weird spell of silence sit enthrall'd. 

And for thyself, may many a year its score 

Of leafy generations cast to earth. 

Ere to new hands thine ageless harp descend. — 

But — for the present is a festal hour, 

To man and maid for respite warranted — 

Go forth all, and the sense of toil dissolve 

In mirth and pleasantry. 

[The Servants, all but Iambe, bestir themselves 
briskly and go out at the rear, followed by the Min- 
strel and EuMOLPUS urith his two daughters. 
Metaneira goes out, entering one of the chambers at 
the side.] 

Iambe 
[To Demeter still sunk in melancholy] 
Wake up ! be lively, grandam ! 
[Demeter shakes her head.] 

'T is good ; shake off these megrims ; I have store 
Of cheery tales that bring forgetfulness. 
Listen ; I tell one. 
[Demeter gives sign of aversion.] 

[54] 



PERSEPHONE 



There was once an old woman scratch'd badly 

with briars 
Forgot to remember, "All Cretans are liars." 

Spun a yarn in the style of a season'd sea-rover : 

A ship stove to pieces, the Cretans spill'd over. 

[Demeter raises her head and looks curiously 

at Iambe.] 

Herself all afloat in the cold briny water, 

Till safe to the shore a bold fisherman brought her. 

Beat her way to Eleusis through brambles and 

briars, 
But forgot to remember, All Cretans are liars. 

So, if she was a Cretan, we could not believe her ; 
And if she was not, then she play'd the deceiver. 
[Demeter, straightening up, gazes at the speaker 
with a cheerfid look,] 

This fable imposes a duty ungracious. 

To warn all old women more glib than veracious : 

Lay the scene of your highly improbable story 
Not in Crete, but in some more remote territory. 

[Demeter smiles.] 
Demeter 
Damsel, what is thy name.^^ 

[55] 



PERSEPHONE 





Iambe 

lambe. 






Demeter 


Bee? 


You are Bee? 






Ono! 


Iambe 
! not Youarbe ; 




I-am-be. 






[Smiling again] Ah 


Demeter 
! you are Iambe. 





Iambe 
I am — be sure. — 

My father was a Cretan king ; his name 
Was Anapaistos, not unknown to fame. 
My mother Dactyl shared with him the throne. 
To fond reciprocation ever prone ; 
Yet when he wish'd her near for work or play 
Her steps would always turn the other way. 
My sister Trochee and myself, likewise, 
Could never look each other in the eyes, 
Our thoughts so strangely centred in another. 
Spondee, our irresponsible big brother. 

[56] 



PERSEPHONE 

Though most religious, even when most drunk, 
His wits in utter slothfulness were sunk. 
Trochee must run ; Spondee could only crawl ; 
I had to walk or not proceed at all. 
Alas ! there was for us no common ground. 
The bards are busy, but have not yet found 
The proper measures to make both ends meet 
And set my family upon its feet. 

[Enter Metaneira carrying an infant in her arms.] 

Metaneira 
[Passing the child to Demeter who receives it gra- 
ciously] 

Take, take your precious charge, good woman ; see 
How willingly he comes ! 

Demeter 

Yes ; and his name.^* 

Metaneira 
Triptolemus. 

Demeter 
Thrice spoil'd? 

Metaneira 

Nay, nay ! thrice cherished. 
Boon of the thrice plow'd field. 

[57] 



PERSEPHONE 



Iambe 

Yet to be thresh'd. 

Metaneira 
Iambe, spare thy quips ! — Come forth, come forth ! 

Iambe 
My quips can cure. [As the two go out.] 

Demeter 
[Left alone, sings in low tones to the child she is 
holding.] 

Open httle eyes in wonder ; 

Open, open wide. 
Little lips, they move asunder. 

What strange face untried 
Doth of a new mother seem.f^ 
Triptoleme. 

New and old have found each other : 

Thrice true to his name, 
Thrice endear' d the people's brother 

To these arms he came. 
Lost or losing to redeem, 
Triptoleme. 

[58] 



PERSEPHONE 

Draw a charmed circle round them ; 

All within it save. 
Fear nor famine shall confound them. 

By Eleusis' wave 
Every ill forefended deem, 
Triptoleme. 

He shall recompense Demeter, 

When, by him beguiled, 
One by one the nations greet her, 

Change their aspects wild 
For an amity supreme, 
Triptoleme. 

Little eyes are prone to slumber ; 

Little lips can smile. 
Stately visions without number 

Hover nigh the while. 
When immortal children dream, 
Triptoleme. 

[The dimly lighted scene has grown darker. Voices 
of merriment are still heard without.] 



[59] 



PERSEPHONE 



IV 

By the Entrance to the Lower World. 
Hermes Pluto Persephone 

Hermes 
Mine errand let the pallid asphodel. 
By the gray twilight shimmering, consecrate. — 
Whither my steps are bent, shall for a sign 
About their path this ghostly flower be strewn, 
When, to a deeper vision moved, men seek 
To pierce the veil that shrouds their mortal ken, 
Feigning a field of asphodel beyond. 

It is the way to death. Nor may, of those 
Who from abodes celestial view afar 
The strange complex of transitory lives. 
Another than myself o'erstep the bound. 
From light to gloom the steps are few ; and I 
Descending thither have already spann'd 
The main ethereal distance, till thus nigh 
To the infernal gates, pausing I wait 
For the decisive moment to pass down 
Into his presence, to whose ear straightway 
The Eternal Father's will shall be convey'd. 

[60] 



PERSEPHONE 



Now on the tardy verge of winter hangs 
The sun's relenting disc. Yet by that sign 
Not as before do watchful mortals read 
Hope and recover'd cheer. Still on their fields 
Blight presses, drouth and famine lower ; no beam 
Of vernal promise rends the pall. — ^Then they 
To the supernal powers their suppliant cries 
Uplifting, from Demeter's vengeful stroke 
In piteous appeal, did importune, 
Conquer'd our sympathies. One by one we sought 
The Mother's presence, earthward speeding ; laid 
Our gifts before Demeter ; promised all 
That might subdue a proud immortal heart. 
But to each fruitless mission 't was the same 
Stern answer : *' Think me not one of yourselves. 
My foot the Olympian threshold shall not cross ; 
Nor shall the stricken earth yield of its fruits, 
Till these eyes see Persephone restored." — 
Then straight the Father on my zeal enjoin'd 
To penetrate the nether gloom, and call 
Back unto day in his almighty name 
The bride erstwhile conceded. 



[61] 



PERSEPHONE 



Here I stand. 
O, who but for constraint inexorable 
Would pass among the shadowy denizens 
Of death's domain, even though by prompt return 
Deliverance be assured? — Already I hear 
Cadence of ghostly voices, which, not long 
From living freshness flitted forth, nor yet 
Given the oblivion craved, do thinly echo 
Their chorus of regretful agonies. 

Voices 
[Heard chanting behind the scenes] 
Wandering ; waiting. Where 
Out of a dark despair 
Rest may we find.'* 
Some saving power, O ! send 
Forge tfulness, to end 
This frenzied mind. 

! would we knew not, where 
Or who we are, or were ! 

Help, help us to forget. 

1 think ; I cannot see. 
Lost one, I think of thee. 

Remembering yet. 

[G2] 



PERSEPHONE 



Hermes 



Ah ! have ye now the worth perceived of that 
For which in Hfe your thoughtless fancies yearn'd? 
As children, when their sweetmeats are consumed. 
Cry to possess them still. If your lives held 
Naught profitable, they were well come to naught. 
Or, if perchance ye deem'd them good, ye had 

them — 
Once, and for all. — But chant not of despair. 
Near where ye flit the stream of Lethe flows. 
Thence shall ye drink and in oblivion 
Find peace. Forgetfulness, its blessed fount 
Not too soon have wise powers before you set, 
That for a few sad moments ye might know 
The folly of those earthly cravings. Then, 
When the Lethean waters pass your lips, 
Yourselves ye are no more. Live on ; 
Live on — if it be deem'd so ; but yourselves 
Exist no longer : all your fears shall cease. 

[The chanting is heard again, growing fainter and 
fainter.] 



[63] 



PERSEPHONE ■ 

Voices 
To Lethe, Lethe's river, 
O ! waft us ; and dehver 

The imprison'd soul. 
Blest fount, end this probation 
Of thought without sensation. 

Waves of oblivion, roll 

O'er us. Quench, quench forever 
The flames of memory. Sever 

The tie of long ago. 
Of penances infernal ; 
And for repose eternal, 

Lethe, sweet Lethe, flow. 

Hermes 
Farewell, then. Not thyself, but now thou art 
Another, if so be thou art at all. — 
For me, mine errand loiters. Downward ! down ! 
To the day -beam, for a brief hour, farewell ! 
[Exit, entering a chasm at one side. — The scene 
changes. At first it is wrapt in total darkness. Gradu- 
ally light appears at the centre, leaving the surround- 
ing space still dark. In the central illumination the 
forms of Pluto and Persephone are discovered, 
seated side by side upon elevated thrones, their faces 
wearing the hue cast by fire-light.] 

[64] 



■ PERSEPHONE 

Pluto 
Here — not as there — stability unswerving, 
Repose, conclusion, safe authority. 
They, in their upper world, sway to and fro. 
Cherish their petty plans — resolve them here. 

Persephone 
To cherish is worth much, while cherishing. 
Once found, concluded, what avails solution? 

Pluto 
Of past and future vainly to reck no longer 
Should seem of such avail, that to our bourn 
'T were meet to press and hasten, not as now 
Shrinking ignore the ill, defer the cure. 

Persephone 
Why crave a remedy for that which seems. 
Mere semblance though it be, to heal itself? 

Pluto 
Illusions, which our kindred powers above 
Implant, encourage in the world they rule. 
Ourselves, stern though our mien, deceive not, lay 
No snares to entangle ; solemn truth is here. 

[65] 



PERSEPHONE 

Persephone 
For me, illusion shames solemnity. 
Once I possess'd my share, more humble then. 

Pluto 
Humility suits not, Persephone, 
The sway whereof thou art participant. 

Persephone 
Rather a child fann'd by the fickle wind 
Than queen of a dead realm helpless to change. 

Pluto 
Ah ! reconciled not yet. Time, time shall win thee. 
Of it there is enough. — But stay ! what comes? 

[At one side there opens a space of light in the sur- 
rounding darkness, revealing Hermes who stands 
forth toward Pluto and Persephone.] 

Hermes 
Pluto, dread ruler of the shades, I come 
Bearing new message from the living world. 

Pluto 
Not often, Hermes, falls to us such honor 
Of condescension as thy visit lends. 

[66] 



PERSEPHONE 

Hermes 
Mine errand is, as the appointed guide 
Of souls in passage 'twixt our sphere and thine, 
By the supremest order, to conduct 
Persephone back to the upper realm ; 
That, setting eyes upon her child once more, 
Demeter, the Mother, may be reconciled 
To her immortal kindred, and forbear 
By earthly ruin, death of scion and seed. 
All grace of human homage to suppress. 
That wrath inflexible Eleusis now, 
Her chosen harbor of bereavement, shelters. 



Pluto 
Order supreme, sublime, who shall withstand? 
No choice remains. Yet even your Highest must 

bend 
Before Necessity, the arm of Fate. 
By fate already union inviolable, 
A bond no countermand may wholly sever, 
Was 'twixt these two worlds consummated, when 
Demeter's daughter, once conceded, came 
To the embrace of death. Even as frail men 
By the pomegranate-seed do symbolize 

[67] 



PERSEPHONE 

Their marriage-tie forsooth as one that binds 
Forever. — Therefore, Persephone, though now 
To thy glad mother's breast thou may'st return, 
Bearing the boon of teeming hours sore craved 
By mortals and their patron deities 
And by the weary, starveling shell of earth ; 
Yet through each half-year only shall endure 
This upward impulse swelling in thy heart. 
Again, again at the due moment, thy thoughts— 
Not then as now aspiring — shall swing back 
Hither, impel thee downward. 

Persephone 

Be it so ! — 
But at this hour my fluttering soul upsprings, 
As when in sunny childish wanderings 
The waken 'd butterfly I saw unfold 
From mouldy cerements his wings of gold. 

Pluto 
Then, once his little season sped, the chill 
Of dissolution smites with sudden thrill. 
Quickly to earth his stiffen'd wing descends ; 
The crawling worm that hovering glory ends. 

[68] 



PERSEPHONE ■ 

Persephone 
Once more by Ocean's marge I seem to rove, 
With sea-nymphs seek our flowery treasure-trove. 
My mother sleeps, lull'd by the purHng stream ; 
The white cloud sails and silvery eddies gleam. 



Pluto 
Once more the fragrant tempter's fatal smile 
Beams forth benign, unfailing to beguile. — 
The fickle nymphs flee to their sheltering wave ; 
Thine, the all-harboring hospice of the grave. 



Hermes 
[Extending his winged wand gently toward Perseph- 
one who, as in a trance, rises from her throne and 
steps down toward him] 

This wand the Everlasting's mandate heeds ; 
Or toward the dark, or toward the light it leads. 



Pluto 
Few thither, hither many their passage wend ; 
There a beginning, here the appointed end. 

[69] 



PERSEPHONE ■ 

Persephone 
O ! now some heavenly ray methinks I see 
Piercing this foul, black-crusted canopy. — 
Now, now soft vapory tresses fleck the sky ; 
The wood-dove calls and vernal breezes sigh. 

Pluto 
Speed thee some while illusion's airy spell ; 
Brief absence claims no grave, prolong'd farewell. 

[The seated figure of Pluto becomes enveloped in 
shadow and disappears. Persephone surrounded by 
a halo of light follows Hermes out.] 



[70] 



PERSEPHONE 



By the House of Eumolpus 
Children Iambe Metaneira Callithoe 
Demo Eumolpus Councillors 

Demeter Iris 

[Enter from without a throng of Children, boys and 
girls of various ages. They carry small billets of wood 
suspended by strings, upon which they strike with 
another stick, producing a musical clatter. They halt 
in front of the house, and as their Leader, a boy 
older than the rest, begins to chant his lay, the others 
cease their noise.] 

Leader 
The swallow ! the swallow ! 
The swallow has come, she is here ; 
Bringing with her the beautiful hours. 
The beautiful year. 

[A pause; clatter by the chorus.] 

The swallow ! the swallow ! 

O ! the swallow is here. 

Purple back, belly white, 

From wealthy home she begs a mite. — 

[71] 



PERSEPHONE 

Toss out, toss out a honey-cake ; 

A tiny cup of wine, 

A bit of cheese pared fine, 
Even a barley loaf the swallow deigns to 
take. [Pause; clatter.] 

What ! — are we to go away 
Empty-handed? — nothing ! nothing, do 

you say? — 
If you will give, well and good : 

If you will not, we shall see ; 
Make our little sticks of wood 

Clatter, batter merrily ; 
Walk away with your front door, 
Pull down the lintel — or, what 's more, 
The little woman who sits inside. 
Carry her off on a pig-back ride ! 

[Pause; clatter.] 

If you proffer to the swallow, 
May to you great profit follow. 
Open the door to the swallow, then ; 

Open, open ! 
We are children, not old men. 
[Thedooris opened, discoveringlAMBE,broom in hand.] 

[72] 



PERSEPHONE 



Iambe 
[Flourishing her broom] 
Your little woman can hold the door, 
Drive away pigs and clear the floor, — 
[The throng laugh, vociferate, and clatter loudly.] 
Pare your cheeses and eat 'em too ; 
Swallow a dozen such mites as you. 
[Very loud clatter; then a pause.] 

Leader 
But, little lady, we say the spring is here. 
Give of your store to celebrate the hour. 

Iambe 
Then will you go away and give us peace ? 

Leader 
To other wealthy homes the swallow leads us. 

[Enter Metaneira behind Ia.mbe.] 

Metaneira 
The season brings us noisy little birds. 

[73] 



PERSEPHONE 



Leader 
Young birds cry to be fed, ere they can fly. 
[They vociferate and clatter. Metaneira turns and 
signs to Iambe, who goes into the house.] 

Metaneira 
So we must needs find food to stop their mouths. 

Leader 
Then will the swallow bring you happy hours. 



Metaneira 
'T is a quiet hour we crave. 

Leader 
Will you sleep still ! 

Metaneira 
The councillors come — 

Leader 

The heads of families? 
Then will we stay, and with our little mime 
Win their good-will. 

[Re-enter Iambe with a basket. She distributes cakes 
among the children, who receive the dole with shouts, 

[74] 



PERSEPHONE 



but without clatter. — Enter from the house Eumolpus, 
looking unfavorably upon the throng as they eat. 
Directly after Eumolpus, and while he is speaking, 
the Councillors enter from without, one by one. 
They take their seats in the vestibule as formerly, 
viewing curiously the scene.] 

Eumolpus 
What means this flummery when the Council 's 
call'd? 

Metaneira 
It is their threat to entertain the Council. 

Leader 
The swallow hath a mimic show, to add 
Grace to their wisdom. 

Eumolpus 

'T is an errant bird ; 
Slow coming, swift departing. She is due 
Elsewhere ; our exigence can spare her mimes. 

First Councillor 
My lord, though times be exigent, the day 
Will hold more than we owe it. Shall we listen? 

[75] 



PERSEPHONE 

Metaneira 
O, let them play, Eumolpus ; children know 
Somewhat that wise heads need to ponder. — See ! 
[At a sign from the Leader the children quickly draw 
back and dispose themselves sitting or reclining upon 
the ground in a half -circle facing the house, excepting 
the largest girl, who remains standing. At the same 
moment Callithoe and Demo enter from the house 
and join the onlookers. A number of servants also 
enter. The girl climbs into a large wine-jar, only her 
head and arms emerging. The boy slings a wallet over 
his shoulder and takes a staff in hand. The two child 
actors manifest the feelings indicated by the words 
recited, naively, especially the girl, whose part is 
wholly pantomime.] 

Leader 
I 'm the wanderer ; that jar 's her house ; she peeps 
Forth from the window ; nobody can see, 
Nobody hears us. 

Iambe 
Nobody will tell. 

Leader 
She does n't want me to go away ; she thinks 
I '11 never come back. 

[76] 



PERSEPHONE 

Second Councillor 

And when do you come back? 

Leader 
I come back with the swallow. 

Callithoe and Demo 
O! 
Leader 
[Approaching] 
To-day I must say good-bye, 

Shall be far to-morrow. 
O you treasure of my eye, 

Parting, it brings sorrow ! 
Just because I 've loved so well. 
Loved you more than tongue can tell. 
Now I leave and lose you. 

Second Councillor 
Bless my soul ! but the lad is posted. 

Third Councillor 
Methinks they are a trifle young for this. 
[While the following lines are recited, Demeter, still 
in disguise, enters from the house and stands viewing 
the scene contemplatively.] 

[77] 



PERSEPHONE 

Leader 
Two good friends and nothing more. 

Who know one another ; 
Sun and moon shall fly, before 

These part from each other. 
How much keener is the smart 
When a fond true-lover's heart 

In the wide world wanders ! 

Callithoe 
O ! why does n't he stay at home? 

Metaneira 

Hush ! hush, 
Callithoe ; they 're only playing. 

Leader 
Little breeze on cheeks or hands, 

Airy kisses lending ; 
Think 't is sighs from far-off lands 

That to you I 'm sending. 
Thousand every day I breathe. 
There about your house to wreathe, 

Thinking of you ever. — 

Metaneira 
Why ! — she has fallen into the jar. 

[78] 



PERSEPHONE ■ 

Iambe 
That 's only a matter of size. 

First Councillor 
The play is well enough ; but, my lord, I note 
A strange complexion of the sky. 
[The scene has suddenly grown dark and livid.] 

EUMOLPUS 

'T is true ; 
A thunder-cloud not far ; unusual surely 
At the matin hour. — But 't is a season, such 
As shall be long remember 'd. Failure and famine 
Are from all neighboring lands reported, though 
Serenely for ourselves the winter sped. 

Second Councillor 
But mark, sire ; mark ! There falls the rain ; 
Not distant, but strikes here not quite. And now 
A sunbeam pierces. 

Metaneira 
[Pointing toward the side opposite Demeter] 

See ! O see : the rainbow ! 
Close by ! 

[79] 



PERSEPHONE 

[The scene, while still sombre^ becomes suffused with 
iridescent lights, and under an arch of radiance the 
figure of Iris is discovered, faintly outlined. The 
sitters shrink as if awe-struck, all the more when the 
name of Demeter is 'pronounced; hut Demeter 
herself brightens and her standing form seems 
statelier than before.] 

Iris 
Demeter, Demeter, what holds thee so long. 
When the word of the Father has mended thy 

wrong? 
Persephone risen crowns mourning with 

peace ; 
Thy sorrows are ended, thy wanderings 

cease. 

Now the threshold of Heaven thy footfall 

awaits ; 
Earth can spare thee what hour that fond 

meeting belates. 
Every bourgeon betokens thy daughter's 

return. 
Every bird speeding home from his mateless 

sojourn. 

[80] 



PERSEPHONE 



The wing and the blossom must falter and 

fade ; 
These lives do but wander from waking to 

shade. 
Twice lustrous the gems in Persephone's 

crown : 
Both the quick and the dead heed her smile 

and her frown. 

Her bounty and thine still with fervor be- 
sought, 

Though the left hand undo what the right hand 
has wrought. 

At the parting, Demeter, rave not, nor repine ; 

The Father hath said it. All vengeance is 
mine. 

His bow spans the welkin to cheer and to 
save ; 

One arm by the cradle, one arm by the 
grave. 

Each storm-cloud rolls by through the arch- 
way of time. 

When swift Iris beams forth with her tidings 
sublime. 

[81] 



PERSEPHONE 



[The figure of Inis fades and vanishes. The radiance 
shifts to the opposite side of the scene; and as the people 
turn they behold Demeter, divested of her disguise, 
now standing forth in all the splendor of divine 
presence.] 

Demeter 
I am Demeter, the Mother, whom unawares 
Thou and thy household entertaining, earn'd 
Reward, Eumolpus, of these scatheless fields, 
And for thyself and for thy peers a fame 
Through all the ages round Eleusis flung. 
A mystic union of two worlds shall link 
Your living visions to the invisible dead, 
The soul departed to the yearning soul ; 
And by hopes newly dawning reconcile 
Men's aspirations to their mortal term. 
Such veil'd design to further through my pain, 
Persephone, the Life-child now, and now 
The Bride of Death, wears her ambiguous crown. 

And not thine own name only shall resound 
When the Eumolpidae proclaim the ban 
Of silence in my rites ; but thrice revered. 
As at Demeter's bosom thrice inspired, 

[82] 



■I PERSEPHONE ■ 

Triptolemus, from this my central shrine, 
Sowing the seeds of knowledge shall go forth 
A peaceful conqueror to earth's farthest bound. 
That golden era swiftly fled, through him 
O'ertaken not yet, shall glimmer and beckon still ; 
In the pursuit, than while possess'd, more dear. 

But rise ; arise, ye people ! — for this day 

Of revelation and renascence brooks 

No waiting its behest to consecrate — 

Arise, men, women, children ; and lay hand, 

With heavenly vigor for the task endued. 

To the founding of my temple. Forth ! forth ! — 

There, 
Where to the wave yon solid earth declines, 
Demeter and Cora shall abide. Each stone 
Planted this hour its solemn portion guards 
Of mystery to the eternal ages seal'd. 

[Obeying the word and gesture of Demeter they rise 
and go out silently, but with brisk and decisive steps. 
As the last person passes the scene grows dim and the 
form of the goddess fades as in a cloud.] 



[83] 



eloiv vTto j^^ova . olSev [lev (3lov reXevtdv, 



PINDAR. 



-Sopedg Sifrdg, 



aiTtfp ^Eyiorai tvy^avovaiv ovcaL, 

Hove, re xapnovg, 

ol rod ^LYi 3)7pt(j5c5$ ^i^v nfidg aiTiot yeyovaOL, 

xal rYjv re^erriv, 

37$ OL ^eraaxovreg nepi re ryjg rov [Siov reXevr^g 

xal rov avfinavrog alOtvog n^lovg rag s^iniSag 

ex,ov(yLV. 

I SOCRATES. 



PERSEPHONE 
■ EPILOGUE ■ 

In the Temple at Eleusis 

The scene opened discloses the interior of the narrow 
prodomus or Entrance Hall of the temple of Demeter and 
Cora. The wide central entrance to the sanctuary behind is 
closed with light curtains. By the dim torchlight the inner 
frieze of the prodomus with its sculptured designs is indis- 
tinctly seen. In front of the curtained passage stands the 
Herald of the Mysteries, crowned with myrtle and holding 
a lighted torch. 

It is night. Strains of music are heard in the distance 
without, mingled with jubilant outcries as of a moving 
throng. They seem to draw nearer, until presently the 
processional chant is distinctly heard. 

Voices Without 
lacch', O lacche ! 
[Nearer and louder] 
lacch', O lacche ! lacch', O lacche ! 

lacchus, comrade of the rout, 
Come to song and merry shout ! 
Where thy holy mystics rave 
And the myrtle-chaplet wave ; 

[85] 



PERSEPHONE 

Where the brandish'd torch-flame leaps, 
Across the pitchy shadows sweeps, 
Come, and lead the merry throng 
All the sacred way along. 
Wake the many-echo'd cry 
Where with young the aged vie : 
lacch', O lacche ! 
lacch', O lacche ! 



Herald 

Many mind the call ; but few, 
Chosen, proved, and purified. 

May the hallow'd emblems view 
Which Demeter's portals hide. 



Voices Without 

lacchus, to thy nightly choir 
Guiding star and beacon-fire, 
Light my anxious footsteps now 
Toward the temple's fluted brow. 
Dark with secrets guarded well 
In their shroud of asphodel. 

[86] 



EPILOGUE 

Herald 
Many cry ; but they alone 

Tried and taught to watch and wait 
Can the exaltation own 

From the Lesser to the Great. 

The Candidates (epoptae) enter silently in solemn order, 
arrayed in white robes and wearing their myrtle wreaths, 
the men on one side of the hall, the women on the other. 
They stand facing sidewise toward the curtained passage. 

Herald 
Though ye enter or depart. 

Though ye look not or behold, 
Bars of oak be on your heart, 

On your lips the key of gold. 

Choir 
{of Mystics within the sanctuary) 
Of his life the spring and source, 
Of its troublous stream the course. 

The mysterious chain 
Threading its vicissitude 
He marks not, who hath not view'd 
In the Mother's fane 

[87] 



PERSEPHONE 



The weird symbols of her woe ; 
Nor can he the solace know 

Which new hopes inspire. 
When the Child her faith redeems, 
Rising through the gates of dreams, 
A divine fulfilment seems 

Of the soul's desire. 



Herald 

They, whose conscious hymns redound 
To the reverence of their name. 

With a sense of peace profound 
Your beatitude proclaim. 



The curtains are drawn apart, revealing the inner sanc- 
tuary, with the HiEROPHANT standing at one side. The 
Choir of Mystics, who continue to chant their hymns from 
time to time, remain unseen from first to last. — Music of 
stringed instruments is heard during the intervals. 
The HiEROPHANT at first points with his staff in silence to- 
ward the centre of the sanctuary at the objects there dis- 
played, brilHantly lighted from above : a miniature thresh- 
ing-floor of circular form ; upon it a very ancient wooden 
image of Demeter, a plow of primitive pattern, a sickle, 
and a winnowing-fan. 

[88] 



EPILOGUE 



HiEROPHANT 

How, through tardy ages run, 
By unnumber'd labors won, 
Have these simple and sublime 
Emblems of defeated time. 
With their mystical accord 
Of an infinite reward. 
Come condignly to appear 
On your sober'd vision clear ! 



Once, each instrument and art 
Found no sign nor counterpart. 
All unneeded and unknown. 
Not yet to such usance grown 
Childlike man no warning word 
Of their birth and burthen heard. 
His repast the oak-tree spread. 
From its wind-stript branches shed ; 
And the wild grape and the bee 
Soothed that foolish infancy. 
Reck'd they hght the past, nor more 
What the future held in store. 

[89] 



PERSEPHONE 

Slender portion, but for death. 
Life of worth or meaning hath. 
Unbenign the sun on those 
Thoughtless generations rose, 
Nor his setting spell'd for them 
Threnody and requiem. 
Passionless, untaught to mourn. 
Marching blindly toward the bourn, 
Swift they sprang and grew and pass'd ; 
And the earliest and the last. 
As some hovering vapor-tress 
Seized and whirl'd to nothingness, 
Nor remember'd nor forgot 
Faded, vanish'd, and was not. 

For a careless world what sign 

Of an Earth-mother divine .^^ 

What probation or reprieve 

Could their silly thoughts conceive.'* 

Nature's increase, cull'd from chance, 

Won no gift or cognizance. 

'T was for them enough to mark 

Lapse of daylight unto dark ; 

And the blended seasons ran 

Into one, for stolid man. 

[90] 



EPILOGUE 



Aloof, and with her Heaven-born child, 
By earth's farthest border wild, 
Where Selene's crescent beam 
Glimpses close her partner's stream 
And zephyrian airs inspire 
Father Ocean's virgin choir. 
Blithely roved the Mother then. — 
Unbesought of thankless men, 
Could her soul forebode the scene 
That untenanted demesne 
Should for their redemption show 
Through her own unfathom'd woe ! 
[The curtains remain open, but the scene becomes 
totally dark, and the Epoptae are heard to move 
inward at the two sides as the Herald speaks,] 

Herald 
Long ye waited, nor in vain, 

The all-envied, blissful state 
Of Beholders to attain. 
By the view initiate. 
Once more illuminated the scene discloses the Epoptae 
seated as in a small theatre, behind and facing the thresh- 
ing-floor, which forms as it were its orchestra. The Hiero- 
PHANT and the Herald are not in view. The area presents 
now, in place of the former emblems, a motionless tableau : 
[91] 






I 



PERSEPHONE 



the Mother relinquishing the Daughter to the custody of 
Death, who, as priest of the dead, seems in the act of 
severing with sacrificial knife a lock of hair from the child's 
head. At one side the action thus represented is itself 
symbolized by a tall lily growing in a jar. — While the 
figures remain motionless, the flower is seen suddenly to 
droop, bend, and hang down with wilted stalk and petals. 

Choir 
Each blessing hath its price, 
Its proper sacrifice, 

To nature due. 
Whoso receiveth breath 
Oweth the same to death. 

To aspire anew. 

Epopt^ 
[Rising, as they chant the refrain] 
( Whoso receiveth breath 
-\ Oweth the same to death, 
I To aspire anew. 

Choir 
They to completeness grown 
Dread not to yield their own 
In fated turn ; 

[92] 



EPILOGUE 

But, when the scion's flower 
Falleth before its hour, 
By grief they learn. 

Epopt^ 
( But, when the scion's flower 
s Falleth before its hour, 
( By grief we learn. 

Choir 
Death comes to set thee free ; 
O, greet him cheerily 

As thy true friend. 
Then, ail thy fears shall cease, 
And in eternal peace 

Thy penance end. 

Epopt^ 
( Then, all my fears shall cease, 
-j And in eternal peace 
I My penance end. 

[The light is again extinguished and the voice of the 
Herald is heard in the darkness.] 

[93] 



I'l 



i 



I 



PERSEPHONE 

Herald 
That which seems the end, ye saw 

As beginning first unfold ; 
Now its lesson and its law 

By the second phase behold. 



The light re-admitted shows the Epoptae in their seats as 
before, contemplating the Second Tableau : the Mother 
sunk in grief by the Fount of Callichorus, while the two 
daughters of Eumolpus stand by in an attitude of consola- 
tion and encouragement. — The jar which held the flower 
is in plain view. 



Choir 
Joy and sorrow in one chalice blended, 

Their commingling is the common lot, 
From the birth-hour till the struggle 's ended, 

From the palace to the shepherd's cot. 



Long the Mother's heaven roll'd bright above 
her. 

Now funereal shadows shroud the scene. 
Shall at last the soul's new breath uncover 

Deepening realms of azure sky serene? 

[941 



k 



EPILOGUE 



Epopt^ 
j Shall at last the soul's new breath uncover 
I Deepening realms of azure sky serene? 

Choir 
Lo ! no more on slender stem the lily 

Lifts her smile of frail beatitude. 
'T is the bulb, low lying, dark and stilly, 

With invisible potency endued. 

They of order'd life and mood unshifting. 
Whom the black earth seemeth to bewray. 

Powers unseen bestow their heart's uplifting, 
Not the beckoning phantoms of a day. 

Epopt^ 
j Powers unseen bestow our heart's uplifting, 
1 Not the beckoning phantoms of a day. 

[Again the scene becomes dark.] 

Herald 
Oft with head in mourning bow'd 

Those despondent hours ye knew ; 
What lay hid beneath the shroud 

'T is the triple turn to view. 

[95] 



PERSEPHONE 



The light restored shows the Epoptae contemplating the 
Third Tableau. Hermes, attended by the Hours, leads the 
Daughter to the Mother from the Underworld. — Immedi- 
ately, from the jar a lily-stem is seen slowly and steadily 
to rise, until it expands again into the perfect flower. 

Choir 
To confirming graces 

Springs the soul renew'd, 
Not to troublous phases 

Of incertitude. 
Now such radiance it beholds 
As the flower her fringe unfolds, 

Rare and rainbow-hued. 



EPOPTiE 

Now such radiance it beholds 
As the flower her fringe unfolds, 
Rare and rainbow-hued. 

Choir 
Who their thoughts unprison 

From inane desire, 
Finer-temper'd risen 

Out of chastening fire, 

[961 



EPILOGUE 

They hark not to fickle time, 
But to harmonies subHme 
Of the eternal choir. 



EPOPTiE 

( We hark not to fickle time, 
< But to harmonies sublime 
{ Of the eternal choir. 

[The scene becomes dark.] 



Herald 

Think ye 't was all, when she, whose spell, 
Through the half-year lost above. 

On the unseen dwellers fell. 
Rose again, her sway to prove? 



The scene is again illuminated, and while the Epoptae still 
occupy their seats, emblems other than at first are seen 
upon the area. A sheaf of wheat and the winnowing-fan are 
enwreathed with a luxuriant grape-vine laden with ripe 
clusters. — The Hierophant re-enters. 

[97] 



PERSEPHONE 

HiEROPHANT 

In what plow and sickle earn'd 
Saving lore the wise discern'd. 
Bread, of bearded grain a part, 
Furnish'd forth by fire's new art — 
Not alone the body's food. 
For reflection's worth it stood. 
Gentler views to them were lent 
As o'er the upturn'd glebe they bent. 
Watching then through reckon'd term 
For the green uplifted germ ; 
From the kernel, scatter'd wide, 
To the bristling country-side ; 
Area in circle worn. 
And bullocks treading out the corn. 
Even so, their fate to solve, 
Did the thoughts of men revolve. 



Of all wisdoms, most profound 
Was the seed with harvest crown'd 
Which Triptolemus renew'd. 
By Demeter thrice imbued. 
From Eleusis' wave-lapt glade. 
Round the waiting world convey 'd. 

[98] 



EPILOGUE 



But in mind a region lies 
That pertains not to the wise, 
And of mystery a side 
To reflective thought denied. 
How should discipline sedate 
Avail that sphere to penetrate 
Which cold reason probes in vain, 
Nor can subtle wit explain? — 
To the unbound soul alone 
In ecstatic vision shown. 

On this holy temple's place 
But a pedestal and base 
Could men's aspirations frame 
Ere the boy lacchus came. 

Choir 
lacch', O lacche ! 

HiEROPHANT 

Every human effort fine 
His transfigurement divine ; 
For a crown and coping cast. 
The supremest and the last. 

[99] 



PERSEPHONE 



On your hearts what trammels lay 
'T was lacchus tore away, 
Clove the mist that veil'd your eyes, 
Bade the struggling spirit rise ; 

Choir 
lacch', O lacche ! 

Epopt^ 
[Not in unison, hut in agitated manner] 
lacch', O lacche ! — lacch', O lacche ! 



The HiEROPHANT during this interruption points with 
his staff toward the area, which with its emblems suddenly 
sinks down and disappears. The Epoptae direct their gaze 
with rapt attention upon the chasm thus opened, while the 
speaker continues. — The music is now of flutes. 



HiEROPHANT 

Lifts his starry torch beyond 
The black vapors of despond, 
Where looks down a kindlier sky 
And the fields Elysian lie. 

[100] 



EPILOGUE ■ 

'T is lacchus wakes a vision than Castalian dews 

more clear, 
And of them whose bosoms hold him maketh every 

man a seer. 

Choir 
Maketh every man to see the haven of his mortal 

quest, 
With ambrosial winds careening past the Islands 

of the Blest ; 
And the spheres, smooth-rolling, breathe their 

harmonies divine and deep. 
When his sleep becomes his waking and his waking 

is his sleep. 

Epopt^ 
rAnd the spheres, smooth-rolling, breathe their 
J harmonies divine and deep, 
I When my sleep becomes my waking and my 
V waking is my sleep. 

HiEROPHANT 

So the sage, awaking, welcomed the pronounce- 
ment of his doom ; 

On the scenes his mind prefigured fell no shadow 
from the tomb. 

[101] 



PERSEPHONE 



Choir 
On his vales of contemplation no disturbing image 

fell, 
More reposeful and serener than the Mead of 

Asphodel. 
And he left for them to ponder who these mysteries 

deny, 
Whether dying be not living and to live be not to 

die. 

EPOPTyE 

And we leave for them to ponder who these 

mysteries deny. 
Whether dying be not living and to live be not 

to die. 

HiEROPHANT 

Then, as the dragon-fly 

Will to a newer sky 

His filmy wings unfold 

Of amethyst and gold. 

Let your freed souls aspire. 

Tuned to the mystic choir, 

To hearken and to view 

What they nor heard nor knew, 

[102] 



EPILOGUE 

Who on this disc of earth 
Found a too early birth ; 
Ere yet Demeter's woe 
One world the living know 
Did to the other wed 
Of the reputed dead. 



Choir 
Happy the man who once these sights hath seen, 

Ere to a hidden realm the call he hears : 
He knows life's end, he knows its origin ; 

He knows the meshwork of his mortal years. 

What though in spirit destined to endure. 

Or to new incarnation rise again? 
Except the recompense were large and sure. 

Not even this bourn might his frail steps attain. 

So far, so far, tried virtue turns the scale. — 
Now, o'er the vista thus to you reveal'd 

The Queen of Mystery draws her solemn veil ; 
Your bosom's gates are barr'd, your lips are 
seal'd. 

[103] 



PERSEPHONE 



Epopt.e 
I could not say what I behold, 

'T is not for human tongue ; 
No mortal hath its secret told, 

No earthly minstrel sung. 

Choir 
The lily now, and now the rose 

Alternate bloom and fade : 
Now on her cheek the day -beam glows, 

Now sinks to vesper shade. 

Epopt^ 
O, 't is no evening of the soul 

Upon these eyes descends ; 
A matin song no griefs control 

Its waking vision lends. 



[104] 



EPILOGUE 



Choir 
The Mother lives, the Daughter dies 

'T is as the leaves do fall. 
Her spouse, no regent of the skies, 

Black-brow'd, funereal. 



EpOPTiE 

His frown, the ebon crown he wears 

No terrors hold for me, 
So long that sovereignty he shares 

With pale Persephone. 



THE END 



[105 



ERKELET and UKIAH 
CALIFORNIA 

1914, 1915 



I 



